


His Sin

by Phayte



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Father Nikiforov, M/M, Rosary Choking, Victor is a priest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/pseuds/Phayte
Summary: Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife! Offer me that deathless death, Good God, let me give you my life!There was only thing that ever made Father Nikiforov waiver in his oaths, it was his sin, his Yuuri.(this is not a Sins of the Flesh installment)





	His Sin

It was always quiet in the church this time of night, one of Father Nikiforov’s favorite times. No one there to ask him questions, ask for penance, or to pray over them. Sure it was selfish, but there were very few selfish moments Father Nikiforov got in his life.

Kneeling, Father Victor crossed himself. _Fingers to forehead, midsection, left shoulder and right_.

There was so much he had to be thankful for-- his congregation, his faith, his love.

Only one thing stood in the way, one thing Father Nikiforov prayed everyday for. As a priest he was under strict orders, one of them he broke-- daily.

He heard the door to the church quietly shut, he knew _his sin_ had walked in. Father Nikiforov would not look up, he needed to finish his prayer, fill his penance. Even as _his sin_ kneeled next to him, pulled out another set of rosary beads, and prayed silently next to him. The echoing of his shuddered breath almost echoed through the quiet chapel. It was a battle he dealt with daily.

 

_Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife! Offer me that deathless death, Good God, let me give you my life!_

 

Father Nikiforov did not take his faith lightly, he had joined the church at a young age, and knew what he wanted in life. He wanted a purpose, he wanted to serve God.

Then why has his prayer falting? Why was he feeling a tight feeling in his gut? Why did he want to drop his beads, his bible, his faith-- all for one person.

His name was Yuuri Katsuki, and he was his ticket straight to hell.

Rolling the beads more in his fingers, he allowed his lips to move in the prayer, knowing there were eyes focused on him as he did so. A gentle warm hand covered his and he let out the breath he had been holding.

“Yuuri,” he whispered.

“Father Nikiforov.”

The voice of God could have spoken to him and it would not have sounded sweeter. Everything in his being called to Yuuri. There was no force that could hold him back from it. Rising from where he knelt, he could feel the cold wood through his pants and a warm thigh pressed next to his.

“I was not sure you would come,” Father Nikiforov said.

“How could I stay away?” Yuuri asked.

Turning slightly, he finally looked towards _his sin_. Yuuri smiled at him, it was sweet, it was innocent, it was everything that broke down his resolve. Never in all his years in the faith had he known someone so pure could rattle his choices, make him damn himself over the decisions he had made.

He had given himself to God, to the church, to his congregation-- and also to Yuuri. It had been a slow build, innocent flirting, eye contact in sermons, and Father Nikiforov found Yuuri always on his mind and in his prayers. There was something about him, something made him not care about his oath, his status, his soul.

 _Let my soul be damned, for I already am_.

There was a passion he had never experienced before with Yuuri. An out of body moment every time he was around. It made his head dizzy and his heart flutter.

Holding Yuuri’s hands in his, their rosaries still in their palms, there was no more fight; Father Nikiforov had stopped his fight long ago. Shall his soul be damned, it already was. _His sin_ called to him, and he would not deny it.

Leaning forward, the met halfway, their lips brushing across each other, a whisper of a touch and Father Nikiforov knew his greed was kicking in. It was not enough, he needed more, a lot more.

Pulling Yuuri to him, pressing his chest to his-- he was not sure if it was his heart beat, or Yuuri’s beating against his chest, but there was a distinctive thud he could not ignore. His blood ran hot, his lust was turned on, and Yuuri was the reason. Tasting into his mouth, he gasped-- he always gasped at first contact, the moments their tongues merged, tasting, wanting, _needing_.

Soft, quiet, almost not there moans came from Yuuri. The sounds were richer than any song sung during mass. This was who he wanted to kiss every day. Go to bed kissing, waking up kissing, just always kissing Yuuri.

_If this sends me to hell, then allow me to go as I kiss Yuuri._

When Yuuri was not with him, he missed him every minute, thought of him, even as he prayed. Yuuri stayed at the back of his mind. Now he had Yuuri to hold, to touch, _to make his_. Licking at the bottom of Yuuri’s lip, little moans as Yuuri melted more into him.

Father Nikiforov told himself he would pray over _his sin_ , but _his sin_ was pressed against him, kissing him breathless. There was no prayer any longer, there was no salvation, there was only _his sin_. Father Nikiforov pressed into him more, feeling him tremble against his body. The pews where the worst place for this, but neither wanted to part.

The wood was uncomfortable, Father Nikiforov had to wonder if they were purposely made this way. Made to hurt your back, to be too cold in the winter, and stick to you in the summer. Plus they were in the _open_ area of the church. Jesus, Mary and Joseph could be watching them and there was no way to cover or hide. You cannot hide your sins from the Lord, Father Nikiforov had to hide _his sin_ , keep _his sin_ locked away, a secret that would eat at his heart and soul. He had given up on his soul long ago, the moment he laid eyes on _his sin_. His downfall.

Only one thing on this earth could ever make his faith waiver, and that one thing was kissing him, tongue deep in his mouth as his hands pulled at his hair, only wanting more. Vows thrown aside, Father Nikiforov rose and took Yuuri’s hands, watching the blush spread across his cheeks as he lead him through the church and behind the pulpit.

 

_If I'm a pagan of the good times, My lover's the sunlight! To keep the goddess on my side, She demands a sacrifice, Drain the whole sea, Get something shiny! Something meaty for the main course, That's a fine looking high horse, What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful, That looks tasty, That looks plenty, This is hungry work!_

 

Large wooden panels kept them from sight should anyone walk in-- sometimes people who do that to pray, light candles, meditate. Logic stated they took this all elsewhere, but they could never make it far before one or the other was kissing and pulling the other one down.

It was quiet in the church, almost too quiet. Every smack of their mouths seem to echo, every noise they made seemed amplified. Even as he tugged Yuuri’s shirt over his head, every tug and yank of the shirt seem to ring in his ears, the pull of the zipper almost screamed as he rolled Yuuri’s pants down. He had Yuuri almost naked, in front of the Lord, as he was on his knees as if in prayer, kissing and licking at _his sin’s_ hip, marking him as his. This was _his sin_ and he was sacrificing himself for it.

“Father Nikiforov!” Yuuri cried out. The sound almost deafening in the church. His name was a blessing coming from his mouth.

Yanking Yuuri’s briefs down, Father Nikiforov took _his sin’s_ cock deep into his mouth. Tasting him, wanting him, refusing to honor his vow to God. Yuuri was always so responsive to him, pulling at his hair, panting out his name, thrusting his hips and just driving him beyond the point of no return.

“Oh God!” Yuuri yelled.

 _There is no God!_ If there was a God, he wouldn’t have tempted Father Nikiforov with something so beautiful, perfect and pure as Yuuri. A God would not have allowed him to make a vow that he would break over and over again, damning his entire soul at each thrust. A God would not make him suffer so. _There is no God!_

Father Nikiforov knew this as he continued to suck and lick at the hard cock in his face. He was using his hands to hold Yuuri where he wanted him, letting his fingers grip hard to the soft flesh of his ass, wanting even more of him.

_Greed. Lust. Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil._

“My… pants… lube… need you…” Yuuri breathed out as his fingers dug deeper into his ass. There would be marks as a reminder tomorrow _._

His pants were too tight, his collar was choking him, but this is what Yuuri liked. He knew Yuuri loved to look down, see that holy collar around his neck as he worshipped his cock, his tongue like a prayer along the velvety shaft-- a prayer they said too many times… too often. Humming a last hymn around Yuuri’s cock, he popped off and smiled up at Yuuri as Yuuri brushed his hair back off his forehead.

“We can go somewhere more comfortable,” he offered.

Yuuri blushed, always blushing. He _was_ the one naked behind the pulpit of the church.

“Your office?” Yuuri asked.

“I have the couch there,” he advised.

Yuuri went to get his clothes, but he was having none of it. Reaching down, he scooped up the discarded garments, smirking at _his sin_ , “Oh no, stay like this. My sexy incubus.” Leaning down, Father Nikiforov kissed _his sin_ , tasting those lips again before leading him out the door to the office.

Peaking as they stepped out, it was a short walk to his office, he knew no one was there, but he liked to make sure and he allowed Yuuri to walk ahead of him, watching his ass with the red finger marks gracing his pale skin. It made his head spin, it clouded his vision and made him once again forget he was serving the Lord.

His office was dark, shut down for the night, but they always ended up here. It was safe here, it was away from the crosses, the statues of the Virgin Mother judging them, the sharp smell of incense. He had to be away, he had to not be Father Nikiforov at moments like this. He wanted to simply be Victor, and he wanted to be with his Yuuri-- _his sin_.

“Father… it is cold,” Yuuri said.

He needed to hear nothing else, moving forward, he dropped the clothing in his arms and replaced them with Yuuri. Feeling as his body molded against his clothing, cupping his face and kissing those lips. It was still not enough, it was never enough. Yuuri trembled against him, he always did, and Father Nikiforov loved it.

Moving his mouth down his jaw, to his neck, he breathed in the familiar citrus scent that always brought him home, _his sin_. Yuuri was home to him. He could forget anything when Yuuri was around. Kissing at his skin, licking up the cords of his neck and nibbling on his ear lobes; Yuuri let out a whimper as his hands ran over his shoulders.

“Father! Please!” Yuuri cried out.

Pushing him down, Yuuri fell to the couch. He was spread before him, all naked a beautiful. Undoing his belt, Father Nikiforov went to undress. It was too hot in there with all his clothing, and he could not be a _priest_ at this moment. Coating his fingers with the lube that Yuuri had brought, _his sin always came prepared_ ; he joined him on the couch.

Kissing Yuuri deeply, it was not long before his fingers were surrounded in a tight heat. Yuuri was always so tight, so hot, like the fires of hell kissing at him. Their tongues twirling, his fingers fucking and their bodies moving against one another-- _this was heaven._ The way Yuuri arched his back into his body, throwing his head back as he called his name out. Father Nikiforov knew the more flustered Yuuri got, he would slip to speaking his mother’s language, but to him-- he was speaking tongue. _Pure heavenly tongue_. Only a true angel could do this.

But this was his incubus, _his sin,_ his downfall. Father Nikiforov had his fingers deep inside of _his sin_ as he cried out, begging, pleading, wanting more. And more he would give him.

“Moy malen'kiy d'yavol, moy grekh,” he breathed out. He found his mother language worked best when his mind was filled of sin and fire.

“Onegai!” his sin chanted over and over again.

Scissoring his fingers, he heard Yuuri cry out again. A few more thrust of his fingers and he could not take it anymore. He needed to be _in_ _his sin_ , he needed the heat and fire around his cock. Turning Yuuri over, he rubbed at the round ass sticking up, looking too inviting. A kiss to each cheek as he massaged them-- this was what temptation was. _This was his downfall_. An angel and demon wrapped in one so perfectly formed for him.

Yuuri had reached to the floor where his rosary had fallen, _blasphemy!_ He would need to bless it later, right now, he had another prayer to say, another blessing, another cleansing.

Grabbing his cock, he lined himself with the entrance to heaven and plunged in deep. Both of them crying out once he was fully seated, the tight heat surrounding his cock, tensing around him, tempting him to cum before it even began.

Yuuri had his chest against the back of the couch as Father Nikiforov kneeled behind him, his knees pressed into the couch cushions, almost as in prayer, but this was not prayer, this was animalistic, raw carnage sin.

Shallow thrust turning deeper, harder, as Yuuri cried out his name. Leaning forward, his teeth sunk into Yuuri’s shoulder as Yuuri continued to cry out. _I’ll mark him, the mark of the beast_.

The clatter of the beads falling down to the cushions, catching his attention. Leaning over a bit, a shallow thrust as he grabbed at the beads, _ten in a row, individual pray for each, five in a loop._ Snapping his hips, Yuuri continued to cry out as Father Nikiforov took the strands of beads, and put over Yuuri’s head as if he were wearing a necklace. The crucifix falling on his upper back, Jesus staring up at him from the cross, mocking him, judging him.

Pulling the strand, Yuuri gasped. Another snap of his hips and Father Nikiforov held tightly to the strand of beads as they tightened more around _his sin’s_ throat. The cries were less loud, more garbled, but he held tight to the beads, continuing to plunge deep into Yuuri. Sweat covered their bodies as Father Nikiforov pulled at the beads hard, forcing Yuuri to rise, his back against his chest, their sweat making their bodies slick. His neck tasted of salt, and his skin smelt of sex.

One hand holding the beads, the other reaching for Yuuri’s cock, feeling the moisture from his cock on his palm, he stroked him hard, while thrusting even harder. More cries and moans as the beads dug into Yuuri’s neck.

“Cum for me, my angel,” finding their common tongue as he spoke.

A moan came from Yuuri as he tightened more around him, his cock deep inside as Yuuri released all over his hand, all over his couch. _His sin_ spreading his seed.

It was too much. Yuuri whimpered as he let go of the beads and wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s chest, holding his body tight to his, thrusting a few more times before he emptied himself deep inside _his sin._

_Pray for me, now and till the hour of my death._

Falling to the couch on his side, he held onto _his sin_ tightly, hearing him whimper against his chest. Their hair was matted from sweat, their bodies were tacky and exhaustion covered them.

“Are you ok, baby?” Father Nikiforov asked.

Yuuri could only nod. The rosary still around his neck, laying on his chest. Lifting Yuuri’s head up, he saw the distinctive markings of the beads into his neck. They would leave a mark, he had gone too far.

“Oh no,” Father Nikiforov said as he fingered the marks then lightly kissed at them, “I am so sorry.”

Of all the replies, a chuckle was not what he expected, “Oh Father, never be sorry.”

Shaking his head, he held Yuuri tightly to his chest. He would need to pray for this, pray for forgiveness, pray for strength.

_Forgive me father for I have sinned, and continue to sin._

 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins, There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin, In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene, Only then I am human, Only then I am clean! Amen, Amen, Amen!_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Moy malen'kiy d'yavol, Moy grekh - My little devil, my sin  
> *Onegai - Please
> 
> Father Nikiforov done by the amazing [vodkaakola](https://vodkaakola.tumblr.com/) \- Check out their Tumblr and other amazing works!
> 
> Yes - Song lyrics from Hozier 'Take me to Church' 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos as those fuel me!!!  
>   
> [Phaytesworld ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/phaytesworld)  
> Phayte <3


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